In Bill I Trust
by sunny123781
Summary: What would happen if the Mystery Trio tried to kill Bill Cipher? And what would happen if that certain dream demon happened to posses Stanford? Warning: Brotherly Angst, Strife, Pain, Torture, Abuse, Loss ((Oh my gosh, over FOUR THOUSAND views? THANK YOU GUYS FOR ENJOYING!))
1. Chapter 1

The woods were usually quiet, eerie, but peaceful. Things never stayed that way, though. Especially when the Pines Twins were around.

The Mystery Trio had their fair share of monstrous run-ins but no creature was ever more dangerous than Bill Cipher. The mind was powerful on its own but a demon who had the power to live within it, causing or creating nightmares and conjuring up any devastation he so pleased, was power unlike any other.

They had made the mistake of trusting the dream demon once before but when they learned his true plan it was nearly too late. It wasn't, however, and the trio managed to send him back into the dimensional world of the subconscious from which he came. Still, it wasn't enough. Even the possibility of Bill Cipher coming back was deadly.

So they did what anyone else would have done. They tried to destroy him.

Killing a dream demon is no easy task, in fact, it's nearly impossible without the right tools. Stanley and Fiddleford had been up for the past week trying to find a strong enough weakness but they could never find the perfect mark. They came close enough, however, and with the right incantations they were sure they could destroy him... or at least close off his ability to ever come back into the world.

They were wrong.

The portal caught fire with a ring of blue flames, shadowing its light onto the three men who stood before it. The winds kicked up ruffling the hair on their heads and the fabrics of their shirts. From deep within the portal there was a faint echoing laughter, twisted and sadistic. Something was coming.

"Brace yourselves!" Stanford yelled.

Stanley and Fiddleford stood shoulder to shoulder with the muscle of their group. Even though Ford followed them into the realm of monsters he never seemed to be as frightened as the rest of the trio was. But when this beast jumped through the portal you can bet that Stanford Pines gulped.

Nearly twice their size, jagged claws, and as hairy as ever was the werewolf that nearly killed Stanley those couple months ago. They were never able to kill it and each of them had at least one nightmare about the ordeal. So what a better nightmare to conjure up than that!

The three of them stepped back, distancing themselves from the monster who drew closer.

"Ford," his brother called quietly, tightening his grip on the journal he had at hand, "don't do anything stupid."

Stan put his hands up, prepared to take on the beast for another round. Fiddleford looked at his friend unsure that any of this was a good idea. Surely he couldn't take on the werewolf by himself! Oh but he was going to try...

The monster snarled at them, showing off its gooey, ravenous fangs, its ears pinned back and its muscles preparing to jump them. The portal still glowered above them, the blue light making the werewolf's haunches even thicker than they were.

Stan Pines wasn't one for waiting , so right before the monster could attack he jumped into action. The first throw was his and it was a solid left hook that caught the creature off guard, sending him to tumble on his paws.

"Go!" he yelled at the nerds. "Run while you still can!" He gave the beast a couple more blows before he checked back to see that Fiddle and Stanley were still standing around. "I said _go_!" But while Stan had his back turned the werewolf saw its opportunity and took it, beating Ford down and cutting his right arm.

"Ford!" Stanley called after him, stepping forward. Stan got up and retorted the beast's hit with more of his own, making the thing whimper at least once. He wasn't going to tell his brother again and Fiddleford knew it. He was way too invested in the moment to warn them a third time.

Fiddleford grabbed hold of Lee's arm, ushering the both of them to get out of there.

"Lee, come on," Fiddleford nearly begged. Stanley couldn't take his eyes off his twin, sure he was winning but he couldn't imagine leaving his brother behind. "He needs us to go!"

Snapping out of his trance, Stanley heard the voice of his partner and understood that Ford didn't want their help this time, even if they could give it. Stan was hardheaded and stubborn but he knew which fights he could win and which ones he needed his team to help with. So with a final glance, the werewolf getting in another swoop, the scientists ran away from the portal in hopes of making it back to the shack.

With his brother and Fiddle out of the way Stan didn't have to worry about them getting hurt. Now he could put everything he had into defeating that smelly-ass beast.

It was larger than he remembered, and it was more ravaging, playing dirty, and surprisingly getting him square in the face, making his nose bleed and drip onto his white shirt. The fight went on for not much longer as the beast seemed to loose stamina. Coincidentally, the portal began to spin faster, closing up it seemed, and the closer it was to releasing the true nightmare the easier it was for Stan to combat the one in front of him.

And just as he expected, the thirty-some year old Stanford Pines defeated the werewolf that had threaten to kill his brother and his friend just months ago. The beast let out a final whimper, followed by a lowly growl. But before Stan's very eyes it vanished into a poof of smoke.

"Well that can't be good..." Stan muttered to himself.

His full attention was back to the portal. The blue ring of fire shed the only light found in the forest that night, and the faster it spun to a close the brighter it illuminated. Stan took a step back as the floating vortex that was finally using itself up. There was a moment, a split second before the portal gave out, where there a single eye shone through the darkness.

Everything slowed. The sounds of the portal vanished as did the wind it emitted. The forest sounds and the nocturnal animals that scurried about hushed in a matter of seconds. Life as Standford knew it stopped and suddenly he was alone with the most dangerous creature in existence.

Out of the blue haze floated the isosceles shape that the Mystery Trio had come to terms with destroying. He wore his usual gear, the long top hat that floated above the crown of his head, and the black bowtie that was plastered against his yellow body. He floated into this realm with his arms and legs dragging under him, the fire from the portal latching onto his triangular form.

Stan put his hands up again, prepared to go one on one with the dream demon. Ford didn't even get to take a swing before Bill raised his arm and sent the fearless fighter skidding on his bum. He tried to get back to his feet but everything that involving Bill Cipher happened too quickly.

Stan couldn't move. He was stuck on the ground and the demon crept closer to him.

"Stanford..." Bill greeted lowly, smiling darkly through his voice.

Ford was shocked to see him again, more worried than fearful, but seeing as he couldn't move and the Mystery Trio just tried to kill him, it was understandable. Ford knew trying to kill him was a bad idea. He should have convinced his brother to let it go before it got out of hand.

"You and your little gang just tried to put me out of business," Bill tells him. "When I got the call that someone was trying to summon me... I was surprised to learn that it was the Pines again. Haven't you learned that you shouldn't mess with things you don't understand?"

"We're going to stop you, Bill," Stanford convinced him, staring him dead in the eye.

"Stop me? You can't even move!" he laughed.

"We never should have trusted you," Stan snarled.

"Your mistake, not mine," the demon chuckles before getting as serious as he could get. "Just like when your brother thought it was a good idea to kill me."

"Let me go," Stan demanded. "Fight me like a man."

"After what your brother just tried? You're going to be hurting a lot worse than if you were to throw your fists at me," Bill prepped.

Cipher slid closer to him now, his eye narrowing. Stan watched, fearful of the demon's latest ploy and how he would fit into it.

"Lee and Fiddle'll stop you," he promised, trying to make his voice steady.

"Do you want to wager on it?" Bill proposed.

"Won't have to, you isosceles scum."

"Oh we'll about that, Stanford!"

And before Stan could adjust himself or prepare for the shit storm that was about to invade his body, Bill flew forward, absorbing into Stanford and wracking his body with spasms.

He could move again, that was for sure, but it wasn't worth it. He twisted onto his side, his fingers digging into the palms of his hands as to compensate for the pain. His eyes locked closed and his teeth clenched while his insides tightened and felt as though they caught fire. He screamed from the depths of his throat and tried to fight against the new body within him but it was no use.

_GET OUT OF MY BODY! _he demanded internally.

_"NOT A CHANCE, BUCKO,"_ Cipher assured him. _"THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MESS WITH THE WRONG MONSTER! YOUR BROTHER THINKS HE'S ONTO SOMETHING AND BOY IS HE EVER."_

Stan's head flinched back as his body pulsated with jolts.

_"HE TRIED TO KILL ME!" _he remembers for the both of them._ "SO AFTER I GET THOSE JOURNALS I'M GONIG TO HAVE YOU KILL HIM FOR ME. AHH HA HA HA HAH HAH!"_

_"No..."_ Stan whimpered, feeling the full defeat of his mind and body. He was thrown into the dark world that only the possessed inhabit. Unable to find control but having enough power to know exactly what their body was doing. It was purgatory of the mind, and as soon as Bill settled into his latest body, the sounds of the world spoke up again, the movements of the night creatures stirred among the dense trees, and Stanford Pines had no recollection of what had just happened.


	2. Chapter 2

Shuffling through the front door, Stanford realized that Fiddleford had been pacing the room since he and Stanley got back. He looked like a mess and when Ford ushered out of the dark like it was any other night, the slim scientist rushed over to meet him.

"Stan, are you okay? What happened?" He noticed the cuts on his arms and the bloody nose that trailed onto his once-clean white shirt.

"Don't get your britches in a bunch, nerd, I'm fine." Stan stretched his back, interlocking his fingers and cracking each one simultaneously. "Nothin' I couldn't handle." He searched the rest of the house with his gaze and finally, after the minutes of him having walked through the door, Stanley finally came by.

_Why wasn't he waiting for me? He doesn't even care enough to worry._ The thoughts were forced, but Ford didn't seem to notice.

"Stanford," his twin called out to him, hurrying over to his side. "You're crazy," he tried to joked, looking him up and down.

"I can't believe you went one-on-one with that thing." Fiddleford was looking at Stan's cuts, tugging at one by accident. Ford pulled away and gave Fiddle a warning look.

"Did you see Bill?" Stanley asked his brother, eager and worried.

"No," he replied.

"You didn't get bitten, did you?" Fiddleford wondered. Stan raised his brow. "I'll help clean those out." And he ventured away from the twins, into the kitchen in order to get the first aid kit.

"I told you messing with Bill was risky," Ford told his twin, trying to get him to understand the dangers of the demon.

"It was only one nightmare conjuring," Lee assured him. "And the way you're telling it, it seems like Bill didn't even show. Maybe we did it," he thinked about it. "Do you think it worked?"

"Well the portal gave out in a combustion of flames that nearly burnt me, a werewolf almost knocked my head off, but since Cipher didn't show with a jig and a handshake I guess it's fine."

"That was the mission, Ford," Lee reminded him, becoming irritated with Stan's own irritation.

"And you aren't even sure if it worked."

"You didn't have to stay behind," he whispered sharply, hearing Fiddleford shuffling in ear distance.

"You know I did."

Ford stepped around his brother who turned and went back to his journals.

Heading into the kitchen, Fiddleford had gotten the first aid kit out and prepped.

"Thanks, Fiddle," he said, sitting at the table and helping himself to the supplies.

They both chipped in and swabbed the wounds, and when it was time to patch them up Ford decided to call it a night for Fiddle.

"Thanks, Fiddleford. I think I'm good now. You can run off with my brother."

"Are you sure?" he wondered, putting the bandages down.

"Yeah. You know how I've been shaken up before. I've got this."

"Okay, Stan," he figured, adjusting his glasses. He rested his hand on Stan's thick shoulder before walking off into the backroom with Lee.

Wrapping up his wounds, Stanford was by himself again.

_He's way too invested in those journals. Every mystery and I'm the only one who has the scars to show for it._

_"He never cared,"_ a voice agreed with him. _"You could die tomorrow and still he'd be holding that book."_

_Exactly. He's more of an adventurer than he is my brother. Not to mention the fact that he would've been dead by now if it wasn't for me!_

_"Death is always in his footsteps..."_ the voice mentioned.

_I'm going to die one of these days and then what? He'll be next to go._

Stan shook his head in dismay, agreeing with his own thoughts and finishing up the final bandage.

_"Why even bother with him and Fiddleford?"_

_They don't do me any good. The nights I'm out with them are the nights I could be out with Carla, starting a life, having _fun_. But no. No, I have to protect my brother. Everybody knows I'm the better twin anyway..._

He packed away the kit and stored it to be used the next time he's injured trying to protect the nerds. He decided then that it was about time he shared his feelings with the others.

On his way to tell Stanley his new thoughts he stopped short of the door and listened in on the other conversation inside.

"I don't know, Fiddleford." It's Stanley. "I was so sure it was going to at least bring Cipher through."

"Maybe it's best that it didn't work..." Fiddle decided quieter.

"No," his partner retorted lowly. "Cipher is too dangerous. He _needs_ to be stopped and we're the only ones who can ensure that."

"I know, Stanley, I'm just saying, for Stan's sake-"

"Stan's always been fine." Ford narrowed his eyes and held his breath. "He lives for this sort of thing. You can always tell he's enjoying himself when he gets to him something."

"Hey, what if we try using this formula instead of that one," Fiddleford asked, redirecting the conversation.

Stanford stepped away from the door, deciding that what he really needed was some privacy. So instead of barging in on his brainiac brother and Fiddle, he chose the higher road and climbed into bed, making sure he didn't stretch open his wounds.

_His mind was wild tonight. His dreams took him to places he hadn't been in ages, and though pleasant, they quickly turned on him and his peaceful state._

_Stanford walked with his brother in an unknown location... it was too unfocused to tell. Stanley didn't have the journals with him and they were talking like old times. Recently he had dove into those insane books and he was hardly the same person as the one beside Stanford right now. It felt right, this place, this moment, but like everything else in his life, it all turned for the worse._

_Carla came in and began talking to him, she wasn't happy. Apparently she hadn't seen Stanford in over a month. She called out Stanley for it being the reason. And before she broke it off with him officially, Stan heard his brother laugh at him._

_"She's too much for you anyway," he assured his brother. Ford was hurt, he wanted to tear up. Lee was only rubbing it in. And you know what? Carla was right, it was Lee's fault. "Gets in the way of our adventures."_

_Stanford had a sudden bubble rise in his chest. He wanted to shout at his twin, wanted to tell him that he was sick of him, that he _hated_ him, but when words finally managed to slip past his lips they were even and steady, quiet._

_"I don't want to solve mysteries with you." There was a pause as he waited for an answer. "Stanley?" He turned but Stanley's nose was in one of the journals, unable to hear him or focus on his needs. "STANLEY!" There still wasn't a reply._

_Agitated when Lee began to tell him about Bill and other monsters and more ideas and mysteries and- _

_Ford stepped to the side and punched his brother as hard as he could. Stan enjoyed it. Lee was knocked off his feet by the ordeal and in the deep background of Stan's mind he could hear a voice, clear as day, egging him on._

_Good, Stanford... Now don't let him get up... That's right... That's it... He doesn't deserve you..._

_"I thought you promised to protect me?" Stanley asked his twin through a bloody face, easy to understand even though his mouth was swollen._

_"I thought you loved me enough to care if I did or not."_

_Stanley smiled at him, nearly unphased by his beating. It only made sense in the world of dreams but all three of the journals were suddenly apart of the atmosphere and Stanley wasn't beneath Ford at all. He was in front of him, paying attention to the journals instead of him and Ford was... oh god he was cut in the stomach by the werewolf... bleeding out... painfully. He called for help but his brother didn't notice... he didn't even bother flinching when he screamed._

_The dream switched over and things were nearly alright again. Their positions were different, everything was different now._

_They were standing on a natural bridge, the underground one that the Trio had gone into from the tunnel. Fiddleford was beside him, actually. Ford had the weakling held by both his arms and was forcing him to stand dangerously close to the edge._

_"Stan, let him go!" his brother yelled at him, standing on the other side of the bridge._

_"Like either of you care!" Stanford laughed. It was a laugh that was barely his own, more sadistic and cruel than his hearty one. "I'm already gone, and so are the two of you." And then, he shoved Fiddleford over the side of the bridge._

_"STANFORD NO!" his twin screamed at him. _

_Harshly, Ford shot his dangerous gaze onto his brother. His feet carried under him like a twister on a set path. Stanley would not take this any longer and he too darted for his brother. Trying to stop him instead of fight him, Stanley came close and begged him to stop and to think about all that they had worked for._

_Ford wouldn't have this. He fought his brother on this thin strip of bridge, square in the middle of it, and even though Lee got in a few good hits Stan was still the stronger twin. He had always been the stronger, more resilient, better..._

_Stanford wasn't going to lose this fight. He wasn't going to lose. And when he punched his brother well in the face and the gut he jumped at him like a wild animal would, attacking him and forcing him over the side of the bridge. Ford fell with him, still beating him, as they both fell into the soothing darkness._

_It invited him, welcomed him with cozy compliments, and as he continued to fall he realized that his brother was gone, just like Fiddleford was gone, and he was relieved. The darkness of the wind blew past his face and even though his stomach dropped and he was sure the bottom was soon to come up and greet him, he was pleased with his work._

Stanford shot upright in his bed, throwing the sheets off his sweating body. He was breathing deeply, his eyes were wide and unblinking as they tried to compensate for the darkness of his room even though the moon was shining through his window and the hall light of the shack crept under his door. He looked around, helpless and scared, terrified of his dream. He immediately wanted to run downstairs and apologize to his brother, Fiddleford even, but the other being in the room wouldn't have it.

"Can't sleep?" Bill Cipher asked him with his usual eccentric voice.

Stanford Pine's pushed himself against his headboard, eyes wide and realizing.

"STANLEY!" he screamed for his brother desperately. "BILL CIPHER IS H-"

"Ah-ah-ah," Bill tsked. "No one can hear you, dummy."

Stan realized that the house was silent, even the exterior was silent.

"Get away from me. Get _out_ of me!"

"No can do, Stanford," Bill assured him. "I've got plans and you're a big part of them."

"I'm not going... I'm not going to kill my brother. Or Fiddleford. The only one I'm going to kill is you!" He jumped from his bed, ready to pounce on Cipher like a rabid, fanged animal but with a simple flick of his wrist Bill had him down and posted to his bed like he had restraints on.

"Maybe if you weren't so busy trying to fight me, you'd understand me."

"There isn't anything I need to understand. You're the monster."

"Ah, don't go pointing fingers, Stanford. Not until you make sure your own hands are clean."

"I'm going to fix this. I'm going to get you _out_. And if I can't then Stanley will-"

"Will what?" Bill chuckled. "That 'brainiac' won't be able to deal with both me _and_ you. We'll have him out of the way before you can say _'NOOOOOO!'_. Ah ha ha ha hah hah! Think about it Stanford, I'm the only one who notices your struggle. I'm the one who you should be following around."

It took a moment of mindful solitude for Stan to register what Bill was saying to him. And just like in the dreams... he changed.

"That's right. Good boy..."

Ford looked up at Bill hovering at the end of his bed and realized that he's the only one who's heard him. He was the only one who was trying to help him. Bill Cipher was the one who cared. He could trust Bill Cipher...

And as if the cooperation of his mind and his heart were too much, his lids grew heavy and his body fell like a lump onto the comfort of his bed. Just as before, not remember the conversation but having the message shared between the two stay close to heart, Stanford Pines was different, and he fell into a restful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Two days after the fall of Stan Pines things were about as normal as they had been. Fiddleford and Stanley pulled all-nighters trying to find the answers they needed to stop Bill Cipher from resurfacing and they hardly came out of that room. Usually, Stan was the one who made sure they had food to eat but something had been gnawing at him recently, irritating him. It was yesterday that he realized it was the sheer fact that his brother and Fiddleford _existed_ that was making his skin itch.

It was lunch time, and after Ford had eaten his sandwich he couldn't help himself but hear the distant voices trying to calculate whatever it was that they were doing. Something primal inside of him perked up. He hadn't seen or really heard either of them for the past two days and it was this first sound that plucked at the man's heartstrings.

Maybe he was being too harsh about it? He should make them some food, just a little something to tide them over... The voice in the back of Ford's mind did not like this idea too much.

_"And why _should_ you help them? They haven't done anything to help _you_. Maybe if you took away the journals, then they would understand how selfish they're being..."_

_Just a little something..._ he quietly agreed.

When the extra two sandwiches were done, Stan took them by the plates and walked over to Stanley's room. He pushed the door open with his butt, not feeling the need to knock, and finally saw Brainiac and Fiddle again. Even the sight of them made him feel more like himself.

"Alright, nerds, time to eat," he greeted them.

They both turned around and noticed the extra body in the room.

Honestly, they looked terrible. With dark bags under their eyes and the same clothes they had on when they tested the incantations the first time, Stanford looked like a picture of health. His wounds were healing up nicely, too.

With the food offering he came in with, Fiddleford and Stanley realized they hadn't eaten substantial food in over two days... let alone gotten a healthy amount of sleep.

"Stanford," Fiddleford greeting drearily, taking off his small glasses and rubbing his eyes. Stanley eyed his brother, thankful for the food, but unsure of his intentions since they both had been keeping a grudge lately.

"Here you go, Brainiac," Stan told his brother, placing the food on top of the papers that were in front of his desk chair.

"Thanks, Ford..."

"Eh, gotta eat some time," Ford replied, patting his brother on the shoulder.

Handing Fiddle his own sandwich, the thin man began to dig in politely. Stan stood back and watched as his two friends enjoyed the offering.

"So what've you nerds been up to?" he asked them, arching his back.

"We're trying to figure out what happened," Fiddle told him through a bite of his sandwich.

"The evidence points toward BIll. He should have shown up... " Stanley said looking at his papers, shaking his head, and swallowing his food before speaking. "Are you sure-"

"I already told you, Pointdexter, Bill never showed." Ford told him this quickly, his nerves flaring up again. There was a silence in the room and the brothers glared at each other. Stanley knew Ford wouldn't have gotten over himself that quickly. Just then, however, Fiddleford decided to break the silence.

"Just because you didn't see him, Stan, doesn't mean he didn't show up." He looked at Stanley when he finished speaking.

"You're right, Fiddle," Ford agreed with him. "Oh, and by the way, thanks for helping me patch up the other night." Passive aggressively, he looked at his twin. Stanley squinted at him. Fiddleford coughed to break up the tension, turning around and reaching for one of the journals.

"Did you see any of these symbols by chance?" the scientist asked, handing Ford the journal.

Once the well-worn book was between the fingers of Stanford Pines everything fell away. His right of mind, his right of body, his right of control. It all collapsed to ash and dust but from within the center of the burner arose a new flame much more deadly than the last.

The outlandish laughter of Bill Cipher arose from Ford's throat, his pupils stretching into black slits and the whites of eyes turning into the telltale yellow of Cipher. His mouth curled, twisted and outrageous, and just like everything involving Bill, the change happened so quickly the previous thought of Stanford Pines felt like an illusion. His hands slapped the covers of the journal together, holding it tightly in front of him. He chuckled some more, finally holding the thing in his hands.

"Cipher," Stanley hissed, eyes narrowing while Fiddleford gasped.

"Oh, Stanley, it is _good_ to be back!" Stan Bill celebrated.

Stanley didn't think on it, he just did. He wasn't going to let any monster have hold of his journal, especially not Bill Cipher. He leaped at his possessed brother, tackling him to the ground and punching his face, hoping to take Cipher off guard and to make him release the journal.

It worked. When Stan hit the ground the book was knocked out of his grasp and it slid away from him. Stanley punched Stan Bill again, this time he got him right in the nose and it began to bleed. Stan Bill winched and Cipher decided to sink back into the body he was possessing. Things were beginning to get interesting.

Stan returned to his normal state, blood beginning to drip out of his nose.

"Stanford, are you alright?" Fiddleford asked him, concerned. They both quickly understood that Ford had returned to his right of mind.

Stanley got off of him, his brow wrinkling in obvious dismay. He was trying to think of how to fix this. Stan, too, got to his feet, feeling woozy but glad that Bill crawled out of the pilot's seat.

"I thought you said you didn't encounter Cipher!"

"I did...n't-" he stuttered, huddling over quickly in pain. Something inside of him was burning his insides away. It had to be Bill. "I didn't!" he tried to convince his brother, shouting through his wincing features.

**"That's right, keep lying to them,"** Bill's voice spoke over that of Ford's, mashing together and harmonizing to form a loud, terrifying version of Lee's brother. **"Good... boy."**

Stan yelled again, biting hard on molars while his features contorted.

"Ford? Ford!" Stanley tried to step closer to his brother, honestly concerned, but realized that if he got too close he could trigger something within Stan, and they would all have to rue it.

**"Ah ha ha ha hah hah."**

"Get... Outta... My... Head!"

Bill's eyes took over again. Stan continued to physically struggle, speaking to the being within him and trying to maintain control over himself.

**"Stop fighting yourself, Stanford. It's never caused you any good!"**

"Gah! I can't trust you! I won't-"

**"Can't trust ****_them_****. Can't-"**

"-trust them. I can't. Trust no one."

Stanford disappeared again, looking up at Stanley in a cruel way, his eyes yellow and slited like the demon he had become.

"Stanford!" Fiddleford yelled for his friend, his heart breaking and fearful by the circumstances before him. Stanley took a step back, surprised by the demon's resilience against his twin. Ford was always so strong...

Stan Bill turned and noticed Fiddleford holding the journal. His eyes widened and his sharp smile followed suit. Fiddleford was shaken and wobbly but held onto the book for dear life. He should've _known_ something was wrong with Stan. He should've figured it out.

The possessed man stepped toward Fiddleford with a dangerous grin but paused and was taken aback by Stanley's meager attempt to get a hold of his brother again.

"Ford!" Lee called out, desperately strong.

Stan Bill laughed wickedly and outlandishly as the demon who always found everything humorous did. But somehow, somehow it worked... and his brother came through again, quite possibly for the last time.

Stan snuffed out the demon's laughter with the palm of his hand, grasping his face, feeling the blood trickle over the back of his hand and onto his dark shirt. His brow was taught and worried, his eyes screamed apologies that would be forever unheard, and straining to find the power, he managed to speak two simple words.

"Help... me..."

Pain arose in his body again, forcing him to clench his chest and close his eyes, throwing his head back and trying to find a way to deal with the pain without collapsing. The other two men in the room flinched at the pain their dear friend was being put through and they couldn't help but watch.

And just when Stanley figured that the pain in his chest couldn't get any worse, it multiplied. Ford's eyes were yellow and slited again, his smile was anything but endearing and full of jokes. Stanley understood that his brother was really gone this time... and it broke his heart.

Lee knew what he had to do. He had to get the journals, himself, and Fiddleford to safety before the demon overtook his brother completely and made them all suffer for trying to kill him. So in this quick moment of transitional laughter he and Fiddleford collected the journals, as much of the papers as they could, and sped out of the room and the shack as quickly as possible; hightailing it to the STNLYMBL.

Fishtailing and spinning away, the car kicked up dust as Stanley tried not to let the loss of his brother consume him in this moment. That would come later. That would come later...

Stanford struggled no longer, there was no pain and finally he felt whole. This, of course, was because Bill manipulated him to feel that way as he shoved the man into the back corner of his own mind... but still, Stanford was complete. And so was the plan... nearly.

Bill Cipher's laugh echoed through the empty shack, blue flames licking off the shoulders of Stanford Pines as a fireball shot and broke the window of Lee's room. He lifted his feet off the floor and begun to hover as if he always could. Smiling wildly and sadistic, Stan Bill flew through the shattered window and rose above the shack with ease. As soon as he did, he noticed the exact thing he was hoping to find: the falling trail of dust that would lead him straight to the journals.


	4. Chapter 4

The wheels of the STNLYMBL tore off the main drive and onto the much smoother roadway, headed right into town. The two theorists inside the maroon machine were all grinding teeth and clutching fists, worry and fear ruling their minds. They had to get away from Bill, they couldn't let him get hold of the journals they were far too valuable. Especially seeing as Bill didn't just have his powers but the strength and the physical capabilities of Stanford.

_Oh Stanford..._ they both thought in dread, their hearts breaking for their loved one.

Fiddleford's been flipping through the journals hoping to find a magical page that was never written; one that would guide them on how to separate the possessed and the possessor. But alas it was only a frantic dream lost to the mist of daylight and the chase.

They're riding hard, passing other cars going much too slow for what's coming, and before their very eyes, like always, the tree line breaks away and forms the well-known entrance to the heart of their fair town. Buildings and pedestrians, plenty of places to hide... it was the furthest, best place Stanley could think of driving to.

But like so many other of his "rational thoughts" lately, this wasn't the best idea he could have executed.

Fiddleford shut the journals closed, trying to think-up a way to get them out of this puzzle; loose papers covered in theories and work tussling around him. Something within him made him look out the window in a hurry, call it a hunch, while Stanley drove like a madman through the city streets. And when he looked past his own startled reflection he saw something that made him go white.

Bill was flying, closing in on them, all with that bone chilling smile twisted onto Stanford face. He'd found them, and he was going to destroy them. With the rise of his arm came a pine tree barreling toward them on a perfect crash course.

"Stanley, watch out!"

Stanley took notice, catching his possessed brother in the side mirror and making a hard turn with the gray wheel in order to turn down a thin street and avoid the catapulted tree. It rattled the ground when it landed, pine needles exploding off its branches and its limbs wrecking whatever got in its way.

This was only the beginning. Bill wasn't going to lose them until they were dead and the journals were his. They'd gotten rid of him before he managed to make them get the portal in working condition but now that he had a body, he didn't need to wait on the meat sacks. He just needed the corrected algorithms, is all. He could do it without the journals but the future holds so many outcomes and Bill wasn't willing to risk it.

The Stanley Mobile tore through the heart of Gravity Falls, winding around street corners, cars, and careful pedestrians, all trying to evade the determinedly deranged Bill Cipher. And even though Stanley's skills were proving helpful, not even a master driver could outrun Bill.

Fire hydrants were erupting and flooding the streets, cars were crushed and thrown after the maroon de ville, light posts were crashing down and trying to spark the engine out of the car, and even pieces of buildings were thrown after the pair in the machine. But still, they managed to drive on even though the town around them was breaking down bit by bit, even catching fire in certain places.

But it was when Stanley took a turn down Main Street that he realized his mistake. There was a huge blockade of debris in his way, electrical fires threatening to take over the police station, and uprooted trees thrown hastily onto the streets. The entire town was a wreck and they had to get out of there.

Stanley put the car in reverse, doing a sharp spin to make the machine face down the way they came but once so they couldn't advance. There was something in their way, a very terrible something: Stanford Pines possessed by Bill Cipher.

There was a hurtful silence among them, none of the three speaking, only staring the other one down; the engine was humming though, and the sparks of broken electrical wires hissed in puddles of broken fire hydrants.

"Nowhere to run to, boys," Bill told them with a deadly smile, standing near the grill of the car.

Fiddleford was shaking as Bill looked at him, then onto Stanley who was shaken on the inside but externally seemed solid and willing to do anything to protect his work.

"I can't wait to kill you two," the demon told them. "Bring your nightmares to life." And then he grinded wickedly, Bill eying Fiddleford who held the journals in his lap before Stanford's eyes leaped back to Stanley. "You shouldn't have kicked me out, _big bro_," he teased, leaping from his thoughts to those of Stanford's in order to get that flinching response he found in Stanley.

The author of the journals gulped, squinted his eyes as he focused solely on Bill-not his brother, but the demon- and punched the gear in drive, pressing the gas pedal into the shaggy floor. The tires of his car, rightfully named the Stanley Mobile, burned onto the pavement of the road as the car lurched forward and shot straight into Bill.

He grunted and gasped as his temporary body trembled and his insides were momentarily shocked. Luckily for the demon, however, he managed to position his body in such a way that would cause the least amount of damage... even tumbling onto the car's windshield, over the roof, and plummeting off the back as the maroon beast raced forward with the telltale screech of burning rubber.

"Oh god..." moaned Bill lying on the ground, "why..." He had trouble breathing here for a moment, barely moving as his body rejuvenated with the help of his demonic powers, and somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a faint celebratory noise, something of a yell or a sigh. He closed his eyes and prepared to unleash his personal apocalypse as the town burned around him.

"Oh my God! Stanley!" Fiddleford yelled as they began to speed out of the heart of town, looking through the back window to see the body of Ford lying in the middle of the road. The twin did nothing but look straight ahead, white-knuckling it, his molars keeping a tight hold over his jaw.

_It wasn't Ford. It wasn't Ford. It wasn't Ford._ Stanley told himself.

"Where are we going to go?" the professor asked, turning around.

"The Bunker," Lee decided. "It's the safest place." He shook his head, trying to get rid of everything that was swarming up there. "We can secure the journals once we get there."

"Step on it," Fiddleford said with a wavering tone. Stanley was already on it, starring down the road and checking his mirrors in order to make sure they weren't being followed.

_It wasn't Ford,_ he told himself. _Ford isn't there anymore,_ is what he was hearing. _It's my fault,_ he thought, tearing up. _I trapped my brother with a demon_, he finally said. _Ford is gone and it's all my fault._

"There we go..." Bill mumbled as he brushed himself off, nearly to the previous full-health of his meat suit. "Well your brother surely doesn't mind hurting _you_. Body _and_ soul."

He lifted his feet off the ground like before and hovered there momentarily, looking up and... sensing, focusing on the right signals... and there. Ah yes, driving away but not too far: two thirds of the Mystery Trio and all three journals in one convenient bow. And he lifted himself further off the ground, until he was as high as the birds (though no animal would dare cross near him), and took off in the direction of the men he once spent time with.

"You feel that, Stanford old buddy? That's the anticipation of the Apocalypse." Bill smiled to himself, only partially aware that Ford may not be hearing any of this because last time he bothered to check he was locked away in his own body's mind. "Isn't it _wonderful_!" he said loudly, moving far above the tree tops. "Oh I can't wait to feel the blood of those two nerds on these hands of yours! Especially your brother's."

And that was all it took.

Something inside of Bill snapped apart and let enough room for the original owner of the body to squeeze through. The barrier constructed within had been damaged when Stanley hit him with the car. Ever since, Ford had been able to recognize that the world he was living in was nothing more than dust and daydreams; that he was trapped. But no, no more would he take of this, he wasn't going to let Bill hurt Fiddle _or_ Lee, no matter what twisted, tormented thoughts and feelings he planted into his mind. Stanford wasn't going to have it any longer.

And he took control, stuffing the demon to the back of his mind, still not strong enough to get rid of him altogether; no, Bill had dug his roots in too deep. But it felt good to be in control again, to feel that freeing sense of... well... freedom! But it didn't last much longer than a second or two because Stanford began to fall from the sky.

He screamed, his eyes watering as the wind slapped his face. His limbs flailed outward, trying to grab onto anything that would slow his increasing decent, the images of the forest coming up to greet him all too soon. He continued screaming as he realized he was going to die and he recognized he didn't want to.

"Bill!" he screeched. "_Bill!_"

_You called?_ Bill asked from within, calmly, knowing that he had the upper hand.

"_Bill_," he pleaded, tears falling off the back of his head.

_Oh, you want me to help you?_

"Oh... My... God..." Stanford mumbled, the wind being sucked through his mouth, the air pricking his body and his open skin like needles and knives.

Bill audibly thought about it, taking his time as the world was closing in quickly. He'd never been more fearful in his entire life. The sap of the trees slid in through the sheets of wind as their peaks passed by. The ground was just seconds away and Stanford closed his eyes, his body tensed and anticipating the smack of death.

_WELL IF YOU SAY SO STANFORD,_ Bill declared. _DEAL!_

And it was done. The falling ceased and they were both safe, Stanford was stashed away and Bill suddenly had full, totally warranted control of the body in question. And he smiled, knowing that he'd won once again.


	5. Chapter 5

Stanley and Fiddleford wound down the staircase of the mechanical tree, leading into the hidden bunker that was prepped and prepared for any and all kinds of danger and devastation. They never would have thought...

"Stanley, what are we going to do?" Fiddleford asked desperately, breathing heavily from having rushed down the stairs, and from his heart rate already being risen from the previous ordeal. They lay the journals onto the table before them. Stanley's arms were shaking but his hands rested on the table defiantly, trying to keep himself calm in his air of uncertainty and heartbreak.

_It's not Stanford_! he screamed to himself, closing his eyes momentarily. He saw Bill's trademarked smile on his brother's face, all his remarks coming from his brother's mouth with his brother's words. He remembers the time before Bill took over, before the demon revealed himself... that was Ford. That was his brother and Stan hated him.

Stanley knows. He knows because he felt it reciprocated: the annoyance, the tension, the anger.

They equally wanted to have the other understand them, and yet, neither of them did- they were too defiant and Stanley _accused_ him in his final moments in control.

The author shook his head lowly. He should have noticed the manipulation taking place. He should have known his brother wasn't acting as himself. But he just couldn't tear himself away-

No, Stanley had to keep focus on destroying Bill. All the while Bill was destroying him... destroying one of the few people in this world he loves.

Stanley closed his eyes harder, shaking his head once more, trying to shake this pain, trying to shake away the blame he'd been throwing upon himself... trying not to believe what's true, what he was telling himself. It was no use, though, no use at all.

"Stanley," Fiddleford asked, keeping his same tone, eyeing the journals rather than his partner.

Lee opened his eyes, taking a deep, shaking breath that gave away his internal pains. He tilted his head to the ceiling, waiting for the first remnants of tears to soak back into his eyes.

"Bill has Stanford," Fiddleford began to explain, slowly. "He has the power and the will and the... puppet," he choked out. "And he wants the journals," the professor started again, much faster, "so that he can destroy them? So he can use them? But why. For what. Why does he want to- besides the obvious of us banishing him and then trying to kill him..." There was a pause between them as Stanley finally found himself ready to look down upon the leather bound coverings of the journals. "Why did we have to toy with him, Lee," Fiddleford asked softly. "Why did any of this have to-"

"It's not your-" Stanley began but realized that his answer had nothing to do with Fiddleford's question, and he caught himself, swallowing his words. His hands visibly became hard, fingers clenching at the surface of the table before being taken away and held by the author's sides. "It's wasn't a mistake, it was exactly what needed to happen," he told his partner with a leveled tone. Then Lee stole a glance of his eyes where it was obvious that Fiddle disagreed... he also blatantly worried about his friend.

"Bill Cipher is a monster..." Stanley said, and then slowly realized, "and he needs to be stopped." Fiddleford watched as Lee looked at him, with an idea blooming behind those big eyes of his, and realized that whatever it was... it's wasn't going to be easy to cope with.

"Stanley... you aren't suggesting that-"

"No," he realized quickly. "No but- Wait. Wait I have an idea."

And even though Fiddleford was still uneasy, the new light in Stanley's eyes gave him a reason to trust him.

After the plan was agreed to and all uncertain questions were assured, they took the books and turned out of the Bunker; on edge because they knew Bill Cipher could be waiting for them, could attack them again at any moment, also knowing that their plan had a high possibility of failure. Even so, it was the best one they had.

Coming topside on the stairs, they took a quick look around and were somewhat relieved to find that Bill wasn't there. Only the Stanley Mobile and the two of them. They crept out of the stairwell and lost no time rushing to the car with the journals in hand.

Fiddleford slid into the passenger seat, holding one of the journals on his lap, while Stanley opened his door and handed his friend the other two books. He was halfway in the car when something stopped him: a pair of hands on his shoulders, yanking him back with a force so strong it nearly put him off his feet.

"Stanley!" Fiddleford gasped, nearly launching after him through the car, the journals falling to the floor.

Stanley kept himself upright as he came face to face with his brother- no, with Bill Cipher.

"I didn't peg you as the abandonment type," Bill taunted him.

"Fiddle get out of here!" Lee warned, realizing what he had to do.

"Stanley," Fiddleford protested.

"Do it," he called back, putting his fists up, "Go!"

Fiddleford lingered for a moment but it wasn't long enough for anything to happen- his only decision to follow Stanley's plan and hope that he'll be there to help him in the end. The thin man slid into the driver's seat, the keys having been left in the ignition, and tore off with the doors still open.

Bill didn't even flinch when the professor drove away with the journals, he knew he'd get them in time. The maroon machine drove off in the direction of the shack, whichever way that may be, and left the two brothers alone in the woods with nothing but themselves and the demon who was in control of everything.

Bill approached him with an extra wicked smile on Ford's face, all intimidation and torture behind his eyes.

"I thought you were smarter than trying to run away, Stanley," Bill tsked pleasantly. "Or maybe you're trying to be heroic?" he wondered loudly. "Stanley. Oh Stanley."

"Shut up, Bill. Just stop this."

"There's no fun in that Stanley!" And then the tough brother's arms caught with a blue fire that tore through the air and threaten to swallow Stanley whole. Good thing for him that he'd gotten good at leaping out of fast-paced danger with all the monsters he'd tracked down, and the fireball missed him while catching fire to the grass that he once stood on.

"After all I did for you too," the possessor methodically recounts. "You send me away! And then you try to kill me... as if I wasn't anything but good to you _losers_. Not to mention muscle head over here," he added, lifting his arms and looking down at his body. "Boy, was he easy, not too bright to begin with so that might have something to do with it. Or is it just because I'M THAT GOOD!" He laughed.

He laughed and then Stanley nearly knocked his jaw off.

The author held his hand as he hoped away. _Damn that hurt!_ he thought quickly, squinting at his opponent. Bill stood with his head to the side, laughing, feeling the throbbing sensation take over his face and the sting of knuckle to jawbone contact, the ringing in his ears was fun too.

"I don't know about you, Stanley, but this pain thing is pretty hilarious!" Stanley huffed. "Especially since it's like two in one! You hurt me, you hurt your brother. I hurt you..." he turned to face the man, his voice much sinister now, "me _and_ your brother hurt you. It's a win-win." He chuckled as he approached the theorist like an animal stalking its prey, except the prey new full and well that it had nowhere to run.

Stanley put his hands up again, faintly remembering the boxing lessons Pop made him take with Stanford. He was surely wishing he would have paid more attention back then... Ford was always the one to do this stuff. In a way, he still was... at least his body was.

"Ford, listen to me, you don't have to let him-"

Bill's ecstatic laughter cut him off. "You think your brother cares what you have to say? I mean, _I_ don't care what you say. Not to mention how he let me in." He stared the scientist down, watching his face tell the words his mind was speaking. This was one of the demon's favorite games... "You hit him with your _car_, Stanley. You really think he wants anything to do with you? He _officially_ let me have the run of the place!"

Stanley took a swing at the demon but missed rather hopelessly. Bill on the other hand, literally, did not. He slammed his knuckles into the back of Stanley's neck, making him stumble forward.

"The techniques of this thing are great!" His maniacal laughter echoed through the ominously silent forest. Everything was either watching them with anticipation or having already fled with their lives.

Stanley wasn't going to let up that easily. He turned around and attacked, with everything that he had, and all he could see was the face of his brother... Bill didn't even give him the courtesy of flashing those sickly yellow eyes.

He tried to wail on the demon as much as he could but Bill was better, Stanford was better- no, no none of this could've been Ford, it was all Bill.

Bill spun his adversary around with one of his blows and kicked him in the back so that he finally fell to his knees, leaving him not even a moment's time to catch his breath between blows. But Lee kept his mission in mind, he just had to occupy Bill enough for Fiddle to- no, he wouldn't think about it in too much detail. The mind isn't safe with demons playing.

When Bill walked to face Lee, who was kneeling on the ground at this point, nose bleeding red into his already red mouth, Stanley thrust his body into that of his brother's and toppled both of them to the ground. Now he had the upper hand, the higher ground, and he wasn't going to let it slip away.

He pounded on his brother- on _Bill_, and even though the demon was taking it at first with a smile on his face, suddenly he dropped it and he decided to fight back.

Bill caught Stanley's fist and returned the favor with a hit that knocked his chin up, making him lose traction on the body that laid under him. Bill managed to slide up enough to give him a solid blow to the gut, nicely putting good use to those muscles Ford had built up over the years. Stanley wheezed momentarily and Bill got up even more, slipping out of Stanley's grasp.

"You play a mean game," Bill congratulated him, "but not as good as what was needed, Stanley." He laughed and touched his split lip. "Ooh you sure like hitting your brother... so much _anger_. I mean why not! You hate me, you hate him, you hate yourself, it's the perfect package!"

Bill stood to his feet, Stanley still on the ground, a few drops of blood running off of him and staining the forest grass he sat on. Without words or a real warning, nothing entirely leading up to it, Bill decided to kick him four times in a row with all he had. Stanley moaned in pain but tried his hardest to hold it in, feeling every physical fiber of his brother with each impact.

"Ford..." he wheezed, barely audible, and having rolled away from the demon.

"FORD ISN'T HERE ANYMORE, NUM-NUT!" Bill kicked him again, putting his entire body into it. He loved, _loved_, the sound of Stanley suffering. He laughed so much in bordered on elaborate, even for him. "Oh Stanford, there are moments you want to live out forever... and killing you," he said as he approached the brother, "is going to be one of those moments." He lifted the man by the collar of his shirt, bringing him to his toes so Lee could see the outlandish look in what were once his brother's eye.

"Maybe..." Stanley agreed, keeping his eyes open with whatever energy he had left, even managing to slip a little smile on his red lips. "But killing you will be mine. And it's only a matter of... who's _first_."

Stanley drew his head back quickly and then suddenly threw it forward, directly hitting his brother's face. The sharp contact on Ford' nose made Bill's newest body instinctively loosen its grasp- and it was all Lee needed. He took a short step back, standing on his own terms as Stan-Bill's eyes watered over with a foul, daggered looked behind them. This didn't distract Lee, of course, as it only promoted him.

The author drew his leg up, building up as much energy has he could muster, and forced the kick to hit Bill directly in the chest. It had so much momentum, and sheer surprise, that it took Bill off his game, sending his feet to tumble after the rest of him. He wasn't going to fall, he wasn't going to let Stanley get the jump on him like that. But he had little say in the matter after he managed to step over the edge of the staircase that led directly into the underground bunker.

Bill gasped as he fell out of Stanley's scopes, tumbling, falling to the unfortunate force of the gravity- clunking his body on every hardened step that he had coming.

Lee had little time to smile between the ragged breaths he was finally able to take. His insides felt like liquid and his legs might as well had been noodles but he had somewhere to be and a plan to execute and he wasn't going to be late. He had to be there when it happened.

So he turned from the Bunker and begun to hurry through the woods back to his house where Fiddleford, the journals, and the portal would be waiting for him. He only had so long before Bill gained his groove back... that's what the theorist was counting on, but not right now. Right now, Stanley had to bury the idea that maybe somewhere during that throw-down Stanford _did_ get in a few blows... Bill was right about one thing... he was usually right about a lot of things, but this, what he was saying about himself... it was true. He did hate himself. He hated himself because it was his fault Stanford hated him, that his brother was in this situation to begin with, and that a part of him might have thought for a split second that Ford had it coming.

He shook the thought from his head, buried it deep within his heart, and marched on- hobbled on, until he was off his homebound path and flashing that red cape and waiting for the bull to arrive.


	6. Chapter 6

**MINI FLASHBACK**

"Bill Cipher is a monster..." Stanley said, and then slowly realized, "and he needs to be stopped." Fiddleford watched as Lee looked at him, with an idea blooming behind those big eyes of his, and realized that whatever it was... it's wasn't going to be easy to cope with.

"Stanley... you aren't suggesting that-"

"No," he realized quickly. "No but- Wait. Wait I have an idea."

And even though Fiddleford was still uneasy, the new light in Stanley's eyes gave him a reason to trust him.

"Bill wants the journals. He wants them bad. So bad that he's chasing us all over town because of them."

"That and he wants to kill us, Lee," Fiddle pointed out.

"But you remember back at the house when he _specifically_ grabbed for the journal? Why not just kill us right there? Why not burst the car into flames while we're driving away?"

"Because that's destroy the journals," the professor realized. "But he's basically omniscient," he remember with a sigh, "why does he need your logs?"

Stanley took a moment to think about it. To about what this had all been focused on. And then he realized with equal excitement and dread.

"The portal."

Fiddleford took a moment to wrap his thoughts around that one, putting his hand to his chin and holding it there with the second hand on his elbow.

"He always wanted us to get the portal functional," Fiddle finally agreed out loud.

"Yeah..." There was a pause. "Oh God. What if he needs the journals because we finally have the correct algorithms for the portal?"

"And we brought him right to them."

They look at each other, worried. There's no telling what the demon could do with that portal... he'll start the Apocalypse. He'll kill everyone, destroy the universe, use it as an Einstein-Rosen bridge to God knows where! They can't... they can't let that happen.

"If we..." Fiddle begins, "I know it's a touchy subject but if we destroy the journals then Bill won't have anything to use to make the portal work for him." Stanley was shocked to hear such an idea.

"Absolutely not, Fiddleford. Everything I've ever learned, everything we've come across, all of those trials in the woods, in our labs, years of research! You want to throw all of that away?"

"No. But if it means Bill will stop, then maybe we have a chance at getting Ford back."

Stanley looked at him with a twisted gaze, somewhat hurt and a little crazed. He was not going to throw away his life's work. Those journals were his _everything_.

"Because that's what we should be focusing on," Fiddle spoke up, trying to get Stanley to remember, "getting Ford back."

Stanley breathed a heavy sigh, looking over his shoulder and realizing how his partner was right. They should be focusing on Ford. But they need to be focusing on Bill too, he's the threat, therefore, he's the most prominent character in all of this.

"What if we could save Stanford and stop Bill at the same time?" Stanley proposed.

"An idea?"

"A plan. What if Stanford was able to fight against him again... what if..."

"If Stan can gain control again then-"

"Then we could use the portal against Bill and-"

"Wait," Fiddleford stopped him. "You're suggesting that we turn on the portal? Turning on the portal is what he _wants_, Lee."

"I know. I know how risky this is but... if we lure him to the portal and get Ford's attention, then he'll be able to get rid of the demon, sending him into the portal and out of our hairs."

"Lee, that's way too dangerous. What if Stan can't fight off Bill? There's too many variables. Plus, how would we lure him out to the portal?"

"With these," Stanley pointed out, inching the journals closer to each other. "If he wants them so badly then he'll come. And we'll bluff our way through."

Fiddleford thought about it in a moment's time as Lee waited on him.

"There isn't another way we could do this to take care of both of them, is there?" Fiddleford wondered quietly.

"I mean, unless you can think of something else, _this_ is the best we've got that solves the entire problem."

"I'm just worried, Stanley. You want to wave the journals in the bulls face like a red cape but you've never been that good at bluffing..." Stanley smiled softly, rising his hand to Fiddle's shoulder.

"I know... But, but we have to stop him. At all costs. Bill is too dangerous to get his hands on the journals let alone be this close to the portal with a _body_."

"But that body is your brother's and if he can't fight back then-"

"I know," he interrupted quickly, not allowing his friend to finish. "I know..."

Fiddleford lifted his chin, shaking his head as his eyes drew to the ceiling. "Why did it have to come to this, Stanley?"

"It's my- I shouldn't have gotten so cocky," he shook his head, his words low and quiet, nearly to himself. "I should have just left Bill in his other dimension..." He lifted his head and turned to his partner. "But there's nothing I can do about it now, Fiddle, that's... that's my burden. But there's a way we can ship him off where he won't be able to get the journals, the portal, _or us_."

Fiddleford nodded his head, then, hearing his friend.

"We have to get to the shack," Stanley finished.

"We have to activate the portal."


	7. Chapter 7

Stanley shifted his weight well enough until he was within the bounds of his home. He quickly shut the door and locked it behind him, resting his shoulders against the main entrance for a moment. He caught his breath enough for himself to move to the cellar door, the one that Fiddleford left open on his previous decent. Stanley took a large gulp of hair, settling his shaking limbs, and stepped over the threshold and into the lamp lit stairwell.

His head spun from the run over and his throat was dry but little did that bother him as nerves and fear held on tighter; they were churning his gut and making him slam the basement door behind him, locking it as well. He allowed another moment to breathe. This was the only moment, Lee could tell, that he would be able to breathe alone before everything kicked into action.

And so with his ill willed fears, he turned and climbed into the elevator, entering the code needed, and felt it as gravity pushed him further away from the sun... into the shadowy deceit of his plan becoming action.

Bill Cipher moaned and laughed, one not present without the other. He raised his haunches and pushed himself off of the bottom level of that unnecessary contraption, smiling crookedly and shaking off the ringing noise he acquired from the fall. "Stanford you're brother is going to lengths I did not imagine he'd go to!" he talked to himself, chuckling. "He just about killed you with that fall! You know... if it weren't for me that is." He pulled his legs under his body and rose to his feet, wiping the dirt from his clothes.

Then, he began to truly rise, ignoring the laws imposed by gravity, and hovered above the forest floor enough to know that Bill was in full control of the body- nothing about him said Stanford anymore. Only the occasional use of his name is what remained of Stanford Pines.

Bill Cipher looked in the direction of the shack, not seeing it directly but sensing the journals and the two nerds that insisted on making their deaths difficult. Oh, he sensed something else too... Ah... the portal. This was going to be fun.

"Prepare yourself, Stanford," Bill smiled inwardly, "all of this running around is going to stop. Everything, as a matter of fact, is going to end..." He lurched forward and began his approach to the beginning of the end of this crappy, pathetic planet.

"Lee?" the professor gasped, hearing footsteps approaching from down the hall. His heart leapt into his throat for a moment, anticipating the other Stan instead. "Lee," he gawked, looking at his partner's swollen face, "are you okay?"

"I'll be fine," he said, looking over Fiddleford's shoulder. "Are you ready?"

"I will be, I just need a minute..." he told Lee, focusing back to the propped journals. He continued to input the necessary codes.

_We don't have a minute,_ Lee thought impatiently, eyeing the journals and then bringing his attention to the portal on the other side of the blast shield. He looked over his shoulder as well, eyes peering down the dark hallway he just traveled down.

His entire body was soar from the fight. His face was throbbing and the metallic taste of blood, like pennies, had become poisonous to his senses, giving him a headache that simply added to the one he already gained from dehydration, and the emotional state he'd been in for the past few days. Bill beat him pretty hard... Stanley's honestly surprised he'd made it this far.

"Now would be a good time to destroy it, Stanley," Fiddleford told him lightly.

"What? No. We need to keep it functional. This," he pointed to his side, "is Bill's ticket out of here not to mention our own Hail Mary. This device is what's keeping us alive at this point." Fiddleford looked at him, worry filling his eyes, and Lee couldn't help himself but sigh. "Ford is strong enough," he told his partner sterner than needed. "He can expel Bill before he gets sucked in, and I?" He looked over to the portal again. "I'll be tied down."

"I just don't feel right about it, Lee."

"Finish the code, Fiddleford. It's this... or we all die."

Begrudgingly, Fiddleford finished the code, entering the correct algorithms and finally turning the portal on, the blue lights bleeding a path in the dark room as to show just the outline of the machine. Both the theorists looked up with admiration, Stanley opening the blast shield door to enter the room.

The twin hurried over to the main lever, struggling to push the handle into the correct gear after weeks and weeks of unuse. With a grunt and the metallic grinding of forcing it into place, the blue lights of the machine turned into something more: the symbols. Not only these but blue lightning whizzed out of the main hatch of the portal with an electric buzz.

The electricity stopped just as soon as is began as it was converted into the next step of the energy protocol for starting up the portal. The previous blue lights shot out as if lasers, all in the same electric blue, and quickly fade out, energizing the machine. The entire thing lit up with an angelic light, the telltale whirring sensation of all the functions working to perfection echo throughout the two rooms.

Stanley stood in front of it all, a slight wind from the portal having kicked up and ruffled his brown hair. This was it. This is the moment that ended it all so they could start anew. "Here we go," he said to himself with a sigh. He turned around to see Fiddleford looking at him, mirroring the same expression of worry that Lee had himself, and begun to walk back to him.

"Start it up, Professor," he said with a nod of his head, and his partner complied, going back to his work station and entering the final codes. He mashed the startup button to initialize the final act.

The lights around the portal brightened in a rainbow fashion before blending together in a spin cycle. The machine whirred again, starting up with a kick and then flowing smoothly.

This was it, the end of Bill's torment. Fiddleford closed the journals and lined them in order, looking over them good and hard. If Lee wasn't so wrapped up in these things, if they were just to have destroyed them... but no, Stanley's right. Bill would kill them on the stop if they did. This was the best way, even if they _were_ relying on the third member of their party who was clueless to the plan. This was, somehow, their best and only option.

Stanley came over to him, stood behind with a hand on his shoulder. He too looked at the journals. Years upon years of work, research, and discovery, these journals were his life and now he was going to risk them in the hopes that Ford could fight off Bill.

The journals, like himself, would never be in actual danger though because were Bill would be the one not strapped down to anything like Stanley was going to be... and he'll have a close hold on the journals too. If worst comes to worst then he'll know what will happen to Stanford... but he didn't dare think about it.

"Are you ready, Professor?" Stanley asked him, reaching for the journals.

"Are you?" Fiddleford replied.

Stanley looked at his friend for a moment, really looked at him, and, having a firm hold on the journals, replied after a pause.

"Yes."

Even if he wasn't so sure of the outcome he hoped for.

Bill Cipher was pissed, he was composed, but he was still pissed he'd been having the run around with these two nerds- AND THEY WEREN'T EVEN DEAD YET. As a matter of fact, Bill was the one to be knocked down and not them, literally, _twice_. He was having no more of these games.

So when he burst through the elevator door on the third level he made himself aware; blue flames licking after him as he sauntered down the hallway.

Fiddleford twisted around sharply, feeling the presence of Bill Cipher, and was shaking in his shoes when he happened to find the face of Stanford. But even though it originally belonged to Stan it obviously wasn't him. The blue fire made sharp lines on Stanford's otherwise soft features and the smile on his lips was anything but the kind, joking one that Fiddleford was so used to. That smile was joking alright, but the punch line was much deadlier... and his eyes, Ford's eyes were never so... _harsh_.

"Hello Professor," Bill welcomed him. It sounded like the demon was welcoming into the pits the Hell, perhaps he was. Fiddleford took a step back and propped himself against the controls, shaking but not speaking, he watched instead. "I'll give you an option," the dream demon proposed dangerously, leaning forward while the blue flames still danced off his stolen form. "If you give me the journals now, I'll kill you first and I'll kill you quickly." Bill smiled at him in twisted anticipation. Fiddleford managed to swallow his fear long enough in order for him to speak to him, audibly shaken, but still talking.

"You won't be hurting any of us, Bill."

The demon tsked and laughed, stepping forward with his downward gaze burning into the professor. Fiddleford gulped and prepared for everything to hurt, but then a voice rang over the presence of the two of them and they both stopped.

"Bill!" the voice called. It was Stanley and he was in the other room standing directly under the whirring portal. Bill looked up and with one quick glance he recognized the situation and ran into the room, forgetting about Fiddleford and his most recent threat.

"Stanley," the demon greeted through gritted teeth. It _almost_ sounded like he was trying to be polite. His fire had gone out as soon as he figured what Stanley was trying to accomplish and now he mossied as close to the journals as he could get.

"Come any closer and you can say goodbye to the journals, Bill," Stanley threatened. Bill stopped. The portal continued to run.

"What's your plan here, Stanley?" Bill asked him, Stanley becoming blatantly aware that his brother wasn't there. "Throwing those journals away will do you no good. Really! What are you going to get out of this? Because I can tell you what I'm going to. I'm going to get the journals, and I'm going to get the portal," he said eying the big, beautiful thing in front of him. "I'm going to kill your friend and gut _you_ and then I'm going to let your brother have the run of things so he can watch you die... and then I'm going to kill him and that should wrap things up! Oh, did I mention the Apocalypse? Yeah, that's going to happen too." Bill laughed, feeling the victory of his win to come.

That's when the anomalies began and the town shifted out of control.

"Wah?" Bill spoke, surprised at the sudden lift of his body. He rose as Stanley did, Fiddeford in the room over trying not to mash any of the controls by accident. And just as it had begun, it ended, and they all fell as gravity did. Bill landed on his feet where Stanley managed to hold his balance for the most part; Fiddleford fell on his bum and adjusted his glasses, shaking and watching the confrontation of the twins.

The demon's eyes fell upon those of Stanley's, the man surefooted and sturdy, giving the possessor a hard look of ill intent, having a tight grip on his precious journals. The sight of him was hilarious, absolutely unbearably precious. This human man actually thought he had the upper hand here! Stanley Pines thought he was winning. Bill could barely contain himself to begin with but the actual sight of the author of the journals standing there after having been floating in air was ridiculous! And Bill showed it.

"Hahaha," he began, "Ahahahahah! You're actually telling yourself that this was a good idea!"

Stanley straightened his back and never changed his gaze.

"Get out of my brother, Cipher."

"Oh, _oh_, Stanley! You have to stop! Ahahahah!" Bill doubled over in laughter. "Stanley," he said, standing upright again, "you can't honestly say that after the stunts you've pulled these past few months that you think Stanford is going to come running back to you with open arms? That's just reckless abandon! And now?" The demon motioned toward the portal, looking at the journals. "You're what? Going to have a temper tantrum and send away the journals so that I can't have them?"

Stanley frowned.

"I mean, you know this isn't going to end well, come on! Who would sacrifice everything they'd worked for just for their dumb sibling?" There was a pause as Stanley regrettably broke his gaze. "Not _you_!" Bill laughed again, his wide smile going beyond the average perimeters of Stan's face.

Stanley shook his head in the smallest manner, making himself remember the path that he started on, his plan. "Ford, listen to me."

"When are you going to run it through your head, poindexter..." Bill stepped forward, Stanley grimaced at the sound of his brother's pet name coming from Bill's voice. Bill laughed at his response. "I'm the only one here!"

The portal continued to whir, the two dangerously close to it's opening that the wind ruffled their loose articles.

"I need you to fight him, Stan," he yelled at his brother. "Fight him and come back and-"

"Don't you get it? The only way Stan's coming out again is when I let him! And that's not happening until he kills you with his own hands."

"He won't do that," Stanley told Bill with a crack in his determination. "You're not going to get the chance."

"Oh, I can take my opportunity any time I-"

Once again, the anomalies began, and neither of them could hold their ground. Bill floated without his will and Stanley too, though much closer to the face of the portal.

"What do you think you're going to do!" Bill yelled at Stanley, sounding strained but angry. Suddenly, it felt as though the portal was working too well and the current of the machine began to suck in the two men closest to it.

Bill was sure that Stanley would be sucked in at any moment, the journals along with him, but as his shoulders came close to the surface of the machine something tugged at his body and his shoulders leaned forward while the books were still in contact with this Earth. That's when Bill realized the rope around the man's waist, and that's when he recognized that he was going to be sucked through. Regrettably, a spike of fear shot through the demon, but he'd die before he'd show it.

The anomaly already had a greater force than the one previous, not to mention lengthier, and it was this factor alone that got Stanley worrying that he'd made a mistake, that the portal wasn't stable for this kind of use and now they were all going to pay the price of it. A streak of worry lined his stomach but he pushed the fear into the back of his mind as he had much more pressing matters to deal with at the forefront.

"Are you crazy!?" Bill yelled at him as he struggled to maneuver himself away from the colorful machine. "You'd sacrifice the journals _and_ your brother?" Maybe the demon underestimated the lengths of Lee's perseverance to have him killed.

"No," Stanley shouted, the machine gaining intensity and volume. He stared at the demon who was in control of his twin's body, his beloved brother, and didn't dare break his gaze this time. "Just you."


	8. Chapter 8

Bill was confused. He had no idea what Stanley was talking about and a silence fell between them. He was still trying to position himself out of the portal's grasp, not doing a very good job at it, and gave himself time to think. And that's all it took.

Bill began to chortle, cracking himself up at the thought of Stanley's plan, even coming to happy tears. Not only did the demon recognize what Stanley was trying to do, but he couldn't control how ridiculous he was being... just, just, that showmanship!

"Stan!" he yelled as a final attempt to grab his lost brother's attention, sounding over Bill and the machine.

"You've never stepped up for your brother before, Stanley," Bill replied, "and Stanford isn't going to stand up for you. Not anymore." He said so with a malicious smile on his face and a twisted twinkle in his eyes.

Stanley stopped then, his shoulders falling, his brother not fighting against Bill. Was he, did he actually let Bill in? Would he really do that?

Stanley honestly stopped to think about it, and for the first time since this began he thought about Stanford's part in all of this. It made him realize just how wrong he'd been to him this whole time. And just how terrible this was going to end if he didn't do something to stop it.

"Ford," Stanley said, picking up his head and looking at Bill, hoping to find whatever remained of his brother. "I'm sorry." His voice was weary and Bill tried to hold back a pathetic laugh for the dumb man. "I'm sorry I haven't been treating you right and thinking that all you wanted to do was get in monster fights. And I know you cared about me before but maybe I squandered that and I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I couldn't help you when Carla left. I'm sorry I didn't see the signs of change when Bill possessed you in the beginning. I haven't said this enough but I thought it was obvious, I mean, we're brother's for God's sake, of course I love you! I was supposed to protect you and I failed and now Bill is going to kill all of us and the portal is going to tear our universe apart and... I'm sorry... Stanford, you have to believe me!"

Stanley fought the tears that welled but the wind from the portal and the loss of gravity made them slip away, tumbling through the air around him. All he wanted was his brother back. All he wanted was to have everything go back to the way things were. It was all his fault and this was the end of them...

"Trust me, Stan, and fight him so I can see you one last time..." The brother sniffled and looked over his shoulder into the portal. The machine was dysfunctional before and maybe it still was, even with the corrected algorithms. Either way the anomaly didn't seem like it was going to be ending any time soon and Bill still being in control... well, he couldn't reach out and save the demon! Stanley needed a sign that his brother was still in there, that, that somehow things could be okay, that Stan could be okay!

And as if his heartfelt words took time to echo within the body of Stanford Pines, the twin that was hidden deep within finally heard the message. He actually felt something genuine and it was this single moment of authenticity that made him realize all else was a manipulated farce... his hatred wasn't the same intensity as his love.

Stanford somehow turned upward, able to see out of his own eyes like he was looking through a spyglass, and spotted his brother floating there with tears slipping behind his glasses.

_Stanley..._

"What?" Bill spoke aloud, surprised to hear an internal voice he had stowed away.

It was like waking up from a long sleep, or coming-to after being drugged, or, or taking that first conscious breath after a hard fight... and that's exactly what this was: a fight.

There was a vibration of sorts that struck Bill from the inside and that was all Stanford, that was the first wave of him waking up... of him taking control. The demon looked down at his borrowed body as he continued to float, slowing inching toward the hole of the portal- just out of Stanley's reach.

"You want to start this, Pines?" Bill shouted, his arms exploding with blue flames as he ominously faced Stanley, his lips engraving a deep frown on his face. "Fine!" He extended his arms out, quickly about to char the theorist alive when he the flame burnt out and his head was thrown back.

_Get out of my body you triangle freak!_ Stanford screamed from within the depths of his own body.

"Shut up, Fez!" Bill yelled quickly, forgetting his place and his use of words. This of course had no importance to the other men in the room.

Bill got back on track, his flames turning red just as his temper did. He grunted in irritation. "Do you know how difficult it was working with you all that time!" Bill shot a ball of consuming red in Stanley's direction but it was redirected at the last moment as Stanford internally moved his aim elsewhere.

Stanley tensed, clutching onto the journals and pinching his eyes before he recognized what had happened. The fireball shot through the portal hole without damaging the machine. As if it were a stone through across the surface of a pond the blue hue of the portal rippled away and showed what rested on the other side.: an endless wasteland of distant space.

Bill yelled, internally distraught but this sudden course of action. Either way, he tried a final attempt to killing Stanley, not at all focusing on his whereabouts in comparison to the portal.

_You're not hurting my brother!_ Stanford told him. _Not while I still have a say in it._

_"WE MADE AN AGREEMENT, STANFORD. YOU'RE NOT GETTING OUT THAT EASY."_

_Maybe, but I've never backed away from a fight before._ He stopped and began to gather all of the might he could, all that he had left. **_"And you've never seen my signature move," _**he told the demon, their voices suddenly combining in the physical world.

Just then, as if the world slowed as much as it could in these vital seconds, Stanford pulled together all of the energy he had, all of the skills had had been taught and everything he had ever learned, and compiled it all into a single burst that uprooted the demon who had taken control.

**_"No, no, no, no!"_** Bill fretted quickly. And as if he had been physically punched, his head was knocked up and his shoulders flew back, the red flame snuffed themselves out and Bill was shot out of his physical form with an incoherent flash of light that was barely recognized. The triangular demon tumbled out of control, flying backwards and away from Stanford who was immediately given back his rights, and was lost behind the curtains of the suddenly approaching portal. Stanford could still hear the echo of his screams.

Stanley was astounded by the entire event. He was almost unable to reach forward and grab hold of his brother because he was still under the impression that Bill was in control, but he did so either way. In his mind he was possibly saving the demon and his heart raced, but as soon as Stanford looked at him he knew he had his brother back. Stanford was back.

The author laughed a chuckle of relief as his hand grabbed that of his brother's and pulled him towards him and into the arms of safety. They were getting uncomfortably close to the portal's edge anyhow.

"Stanley," Ford said... in his voice, in his normal, comforting voice. Even though it was strained and exhausted it was still his own and they were both glad to hear it. "I-" He wasn't able to get out another word because his brother pulled him in for a hug, for the first time in ages, and Stan hugged him back. It was good to have full range of motion again and Stanford never wanted to let go, but the family time could wait... now that one problem was solved Stanley had to move onto the next: the portal was still on and they were inching towards it... that, and Ford was basically drained.

"Stan, I need you to climb down the rope and get to the floor, can you do that?"

"Of course I can, poindexter," he smiled- and it was his smile! and grabbed hold of the taut thing, beginning his decent to the ground. It didn't take too long and neither of their nerves were out of control. After what just happened, it felt like the weight of the world was off their shoulders.

When Stanford was halfway down, Stanley yelled at him to take the journals; that was another thing that had to be dealt with, those books had to be safe, and that meant away from the machine. So Stanford stopped with his brother's request and reached out to take hold of the precious journals. Once he had them secured and in hand, he continued to climb down and eventually found a sturdy juncture to hold onto. Stanley watched him the entire time, watched his every move and every breath and when Stan gave him the a-okay he breathed and never felt more relieved.

"Fiddle, shut it down!" Ford yelled to the professor who was undoubtedly in there, working the control panel.

"The keys," Stanley informed him from on high. Stanford looked up to hear him better, the mixing lights of the portal shinning bright behind the image of his twin. "We need to get to them and-"

They watch, all of them, as the rope tethering Stanley to the Earth unfurls at its midpoint. It snaps and slacks and Stanley grunts with surprise as his body is caught in a current much too strong for him to swim out of. Fear swallows everyone and everything intensifies as Stanley is swept closer and closer to the depths of the portal.

"Shut it down!" Ford screamed to the professor before whipping his attention back to Stanley, seeing the utter panic in his eyes.

"Stanford!" he yelled, reaching out to him, trying to grab hold of anything that would stop him or slow him down but there was nothing that could help him.

"Stanley!" Ford yelled back in anguish, watching as his brother was pulled further and further away from him. Their momentary time of peace was over, it was a farfetched idea to begin with... and now there was nothing but torment and dread as they watched horrorstruck at what they couldn't help to stop.

But Stanford wasn't going to give up so easily.

He threw the books down and made sure they were tumbling to the other side of the room before he used the strength he had left to propel himself off the floor and toward the controls on the side of the room, specifically, the one with the emergency shutdown protocol.

And here they were, like a still life painting in this momentary burst of effort. Stanley reached out as far as he could, fingers almost grasping onto the edge of the portal... maybe he could hold on and pull himself out. And then there was Stanford, having jutted off the floor and was floating, soaring, in the direction of the three keys that had to be turned simultaneously. In the other room, Fiddleford had managed to crawl his way down the sides of the walls and plant himself in front of the control panel, his fingers tapping away like a madman, trying to find any scapegoat to their present situation. But unlike those still arts, everything had to move again... there was nothing stopping that from happening, not even the loss of gravity.

"Stan..." Stanley yelled, grunted, as the palms of his hands slapped against the internal bounds of the portal. He could feel his feet hanging over the vertical edge. His fingers clawed and grasped anxiously against the smooth metal, the hold slowing him down but not nearly enough.

"Hold on, Stanley," Ford replied hurried, "hold on." He looked down at the three keys, not putting much thought into how he was going to go through with this. He looked up quickly and saw his brother struggling to gain control, his fingers clinging to the outside of the portal. "Stanley!" he gapped, his voice explaining the heartbreak he was being choked with, and looked back at the keys. If he turned them now Stanley's grip would be lost... he can't.

"Ford," Fiddleford yelled at him, "the portal's too unstable you have to shut it down now!"

"My brother's in there!" he screamed back aggravated.

"If you don't we'll all _die_!"

Fiddleford did his best but the machine had been on for too long. It was going to rip a hole in the universe and destroy the town in the process. He turned his attention to Stanley nonetheless. His partner had a grip, he actually managed it! But the portal was too strong and his body was already too far gone. It was a whirlpool at this point and not even he could get out of this one. His heart was broken because he knew the hope of him getting out was a lost cause.

Stanford watched the fingers of his brother with anticipation, knowing he could get out, he knew it, he felt it, he wanted it to be true and all Lee had to do was-

"STANLEY!"

It was the most heart aching sound Fiddleford ever heard and would ever hear again. Stanley. He... he slipped through. He was... _gone_.

"STANLEY!" Ford ushered himself forward in panic, his body tense with agony.

"Ford!" the professor yelled after him again, the thin man holding back tears. "Shut it _down_!"

Stanford was caught in a moment of purgatory. He wanted, he ached, to go after his brother, to rush over there and save him and pull him out- it was a perfectly sane plan and he could pull it off it, too! But the part of him that knew his brother was gone made him pull back and allowed the sharp echo of Fiddleford's words to vibrate through his mind. He was right... he was right and Ford was about to vomit.

He hadn't a choice and he somehow forced himself around, the portal spinning faster than ever, and returned to the keys. His breathing was heavy and broken, sporadic, his shoulders heaving to the beat of his heart and he managed to turn the keys at a similar junction expecting that to be the end of it... but it wasn't.

There was a low sounding alarm that led Stan's attention to the button stand in the middle of the room, the cap burst off at the top and the center of the metal rod lit with red. That was the shutdown button and he had to get to it, but time was running out. He could tell because the room shook, debris beginning to float through the air as the machine grew louder and more threatening by the second; it was like a racecar coming much too close to the stands.

Once again Stan found himself being propelled through the room, and with the right force he made to the metal rod in only a few seconds. Gravity was still lost and so were so many other things... Stanley, Ford's heart... Fiddleford's hope...

Ford held onto the base of the rod, the rest of his body halfway floating off the ground, and looked up in the daunting machine that stole his brother. He searched the rim of it desperately, begging to find a trace of his twin, the sensation choking him and constricting his insides as he kept imagining some nerdy, heroic stunt: him jutting out of the space hole and shooting into the room... his hand reaching out and grabbing onto the main ring of the machine, pulling himself back into the room! but it didn't happen and Stanford was waiting too long. He knew that because he could feel the tension in Fiddleford's voice, he could hear the screaming of the portal as it was about to leap out of control... and he could feel the strain on his heart... that quickly beating thing in his chest that fell apart with every constriction.

Tears brimmed the man's eyes as he gazed into the portal, waiting, praying, shouting for his brother to come back, but Stanley wasn't going to and he had to shut it down. Stan cried then, tears globing around his eyes before they drifted upward and were subsequently sucked toward the entranceway of the portal.

"I'm sorry..." and his fingers shut the portal down, closing it off... forever.

Gravity fell and with it came Stanford's life. Everything he had ever known, that he had ever lived for or fought for was gone. It was... it was...

He broke down, cries of anguish echoed through the room as the portal spun to its final close. The man fell to his knees, fell hard, and his heart broke... feeling strangled by his insides and crushed by the pounding in his head, the throbbing in his veins.

He wasn't to his fittest standard after he expelled Bill but Stan would have recovered from that after a nap and a good meal... He sure as hell wasn't going to heal from this.

Stanley was gone- his brother- his twin, Stanford's everything, his _life_. It was all... gone. He had nothing and he was broken and no matter the tears he shed or the screams released would ever change the fact that there was a bottomless pit inside of him that would never heal over.

And the worst part about it all was that all he wanted to do was tell him how much he loved him. He never got to say that... He never got the chance to tell his brother how much he meant to him and now he would never know, and now it would never be okay again...


End file.
